


Our Young Ensign

by Amilaari



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-16
Updated: 2014-08-16
Packaged: 2018-02-13 09:57:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2146434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amilaari/pseuds/Amilaari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Must be boring for you here, hanging out with old men like us".<br/>"No, not boring, sir. I like it here".<br/>"But?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Our Young Ensign

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, how nice of you to check out my fic! I hope to make it worth your while, so without further ado...  
> Enjoy!

Chekov rolled the white mug around on the table, trying to get it to make as little noise as possible. He stared at the light-brown, steaming coffee swirling around in the mug, sunken to his own thoughts.

"Must be boring for you here".  
Chekov quickly looked up from the mug, startled by suddenly being spoken to, and his eyes met with the ship's senior medical officer McCoy's.  
"Hanging out with old men like us," he continued as he sat down opposite the young ensign, making a small nod towards the cup Chekov had been rolling between his hands.  
"No, not boring, sir," Chekov hurried to say, "I like it here".  
"But?" McCoy asked before lifting his mug to his lips.  
"What do you mean, sir?" Chekov questioned.  
"Your sentence sounded like it'd continue with a 'but'," McCoy remarked.  
"Oh, yes... but I think you're right, sir," Chekov said slowly, lowering his voice, glancing around to see if anyone had heard him.

McCoy caught those glances.  
"You don't have to feel bad about it," he assured the young ensign, "it's understandable".  
Chekov looked down to his mug. The coffee had stopped swirling.  
"But, sir," he began slowly.  
"There's already a lot of talk about me in the hallways, and it's not all positive," Chekhov concluded quietly, lifting his eyes towards McCoy.  
McCoy made a small mental sigh as he felt a sting in his chest looking at the boy hunched over his mug, his lips curved slightly downwards.  
"Would you want me to say something to Jim?" the doctor asked.  
"No," Chekov hurried to say, "No, sir. I appreciate your thought but I don't think it would do any good".  
"It's your choice kid," McCoy shrugged. Then his expression softened. "But if you need anything, you can ask me".  
"Thank you, sir," Chekov smiled, turning his gaze down.  
"But stop calling me 'sir'," McCoy retorted, taking sip of his coffee, "it sounds too formal".  
"I'm sorry sir-- I mean," Chekov corrected himself, "what do you want me to call you?"  
"Well," McCoy lowered his mug to the table, "how about my name?"  
"Doctor McCoy?" Chekov tried out.  
"Without the title," the doctor sighed.  
"Yes, sir-- I mean..." Chekov muttered, shaking his head in frustration.

"Just use whatever comes naturally," McCoy suggested.  
"...Sir?"  
The doctor rolled his eyes, shaking his head a little.  
"You're starting to remind me of Spock," he remarked, "that Vulcan bastard's too strict to use anything but formalities, even when..." McCoy stopped mid-sentence, and turned to look at Chekov, "hey kid, you know how to play cards, right?"  
"Yes.. I think so," the young ensign stuttered.  
"Me, Jim and Spock are playing tonight in Jim's quarters, you want to come?"  
"I... Thank you, but..."  
"Come on kid, you don't have to try to be polite; do you want to play cards or not?" McCoy interrupted him.  
Chekov thought for a moment, and then smiled: "Yes, yes I would".  
"Good. Your shift ends at...?"  
"At seven, sir," Chekov replied, his smile fading a bit as he realized his relapse to his old habits. McCoy paid no mind to it.  
"Good, you'll have just enough time. We start at eight in Jim's quarters".  
"Eight o'clock, captain's quarters, got it," Chekov smiled.  
"I've got to get to the Sick Bay, seeya later kid," McCoy finished his coffee before heading out of the rec room, taking his mug away with him.  
"Bye sir," Chekov said after him.

**-:-**

Chekov arrived outside the captain's quarters exactly three minutes early. He had been unsure what to wear, but had settled for his yellow uniform shirt. He wriggled his hands, standing outside the door but not quite daring to ask permission to enter as the clock still wasn't eight.  
"Hey kiddo," Chekov jumped a little as McCoy reached his side, and he looked at the older man, dressed in jeans and t-shirt; an outfit the Russian had never seen him wear,  
"You could've gone for the casual wear," the doctor remarked, patting Chekov on the shoulder. The young ensign let out a bit of an awkward laugh.  
"But why are you standing here? Let's go in," McCoy continued as he unhesitantly let himself and Chekov in.

"Finally!" Chekov could hear Captain Kirk's voice say, "C'mon in Bones, poker is tonight's game!"  
Just as he had finished his sentence Kirk turned around and saw Chekov standing in the doorway behind McCoy.  
"Chekov," the captain addressed him, "what brings you here?"  
Kirk's tone had been a friendly one, but still the ensign was at a loss as to how to reply as he glanced at first officer Spock sitting opposite of Kirk, looking at Chekov with a raised eyebrow – he, too, was wearing his uniform, but somehow Chekov still felt like the odd one out.  
"I did," McCoy answered for Chekhov and the young Russian was glad he did.  
"He's coming to play with us," the doctor continued, walking towards the table where the other two men were already sitting, and signalled for Chekov to follow him; he did, hesitantly.  
"He is?" Kirk asked, tilting his head, and the question momentarily made Chekov's heart sink.  
"Yeah," McCoy replied as he sat at the table.  
"Okay," the captain agreed with a casual shrug and Chekov felt oddly relieved as he, too, now sat down at the table.

"So, welcome!" Kirk smiled to Chekov, who awkwardly smiled back, "I trust you know how to play poker?" the captain continued, looking towards the playing cards Spock was shuffling in hands.  
But when the ensign didn't reply, Kirk turned to look at him again. "Chekov?"  
"Oh, yes," Chekov turned to look at the older man, "I know how to play poker, sir".  
Kirk moved his gaze where Chekov's had been and spotted his own beer bottle sitting on the corner of the table. His smile widened as he turned to look at McCoy.  
"You're ruining my authority, Bones!" he laughed.  
"I'm merely humanizing you, Jim," Bones retorted.  
"May I point out, Captain," Spock began, "humans have been known to form stronger bonds and more respect towards those they find relatable. Showing Mr. Chekov..."

Kirk leant towards McCoy. " _Bones, you think we could humanize Spock?_ " he smirked.

"I see no reason to do so, Captain," Spock said with a quirked eyebrow.  
McCoy looked at Jim and shook his head. "Just deal the cards Spock," he said, and Chekov watched all of this and smiled, happy he had decided to come.


End file.
